Here is a poem I wrote for a great friend of mine. She was a co-worker for many years in a private Christian school. She taught English. When she was the students’ teacher, they hated her strict adherence to form and grammar. Later, they lauded her teaching style and its effect on each of them. She is still a blessing to me and I thought you might like to get to know her.
In Honor of Jan Meadows
She’s a vixen, a harpy, a raptor,
When it come to words.
Nay the rapier and foil are insufficient for her labor.
Give her the mighty claymore to slash
And hew the hopeful’s prose.
And yet, though honored not in sync
With their moment
They all fall in capitulation to her power
With admiration for the very thrashing
They received at her hand.
O hark unto me, you who know not her acumen.
May all give her glory who have known
Her whip, her lash, her work of love.
She is the wonder of a woman
From the fields, rhetorically speaking.
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